


No One Alive

by quiet__tiger



Category: DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Suicide Attempt, Tim drake needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 02:05:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10629894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiet__tiger/pseuds/quiet__tiger
Summary: Dick tries to help Tim cope before it's too late.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Angst, angst, and more angst. Content some readers may find disturbing.
> 
> Spoilers/canon: specifically TT 17-20ish, up through the fifth TT TPB which goes up to TT 33, TT Annual 1, and IC 6. Goes AU after that because I don't know what happens (but takes place fairly soon after it).
> 
> Sister-fic to [Two Down, One to Go](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10629840).
> 
> Originally posted to Livejournal Aug. 17th, 2006.

Dick swung downwards, the rush of air and adrenaline as he reached the bottom of his swing both familiar and exciting, no matter that this was his millionth or more time doing it. The thick Gotham night surrounded him, along with the odor of low tide and asphalt. But the scenery, or lack thereof, wasn’t what mattered.

What mattered was that the world was safe for a little while longer, and he had had a part in it, however minor.

He reached the building behind Wayne Tower, which functioned as the center of the city, and landed silently. He was about to turn back at a fifteen-degree angle on his next spoke in his wheel of patrol when he thought he saw something moving in the shadows. He was tense and on guard until he realized that the something was shaped like Tim Drake.

“Ro- Tim?” Nightwing walked over towards Tim, slowing when he realized Tim was wearing khakis and a t-shirt. Deliberately scattered around him were things Dick wasn’t sure he wanted to think about. The equipment he used to climb to the roof. A liquor bottle. Medication. A photo album.

One sharp-ass blade.

“Tim?” Tim looked up at him this time, his eyes visibly hollow even in the poor light. “What are you doing?”

“Thinking.”

It looked like quite a deal more than thinking. Dick sat down next to Tim, close enough that Tim must be able to feel him, but not close enough to encroach upon the boy’s personal space. He could see that Tim was looking at pictures of his Titans. Cassie giggling with Raven. Bart and Gar smiling goofily at the camera. Kon…

“Tim.”

“What.” Tim’s voice was flat and thick, and Dick picked up the liquor bottle next to Tim’s thigh. A good brand; he had probably taken it from Bruce. The remaining liquid sloshed when Dick shook it.

“What are you doing?” Dick tried to look Tim in the eye, but he wouldn’t look back. Instead, he stared towards his knee.

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” It was a stupid thing to say, but it was _true_. Tim looked like he was about to fall apart.

“What do you care?” Tim looked up, angry eyes flashing at Dick.

“What does that mean?”

Tim snatched the bottle from Dick’s hands and unscrewed the cap. Dick watched as Tim drank and swallowed, then inhaled heavily. “Nothing.”

Dick grabbed the bottle back, and put it on his side away from Tim. “Enough of that shit. Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Not yet.”

“How would you know?”

“Had to practice drinking for undercover work.” Tim’s words weren’t quite slurred, but he seemed to need to focus more than normal to say them.

“Why are you drinking now.”

“Because it helps.”

Dick didn’t like where this was going at _all_. “Helps with what?”

Tim turned to him and shouted, “Helps make the fucking pain go away!”

“Is this because of what happened with Kon?”

“We can tell you were trained by the world’s greatest detective!” Tim sneered at him. “It helps. It burns. And it makes me feel better.”

“It’s destructive. You know better.” No doubt Tim had gotten the lecture from his own parents, his school, and most certainly Bruce.

“Fuck you! You know not to sleep with everyone who flashes their tits in your face, and you do anyway!”

“Don’t project your anger onto me.” Dick knew he had to remain calm so that Tim had a chance of relaxing. Then again, that was for normal people. Tim wasn’t normal. Dick hadn’t ever seen him like this, and he wasn't sure what to do. But a small part of him wasn’t surprised. Tim had been through a lot in the last year or so, Kon apparently being the final straw.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Tim, I know it hurts, we’ve all lost people-”

“People?! We’ve all lost people?!” Tim’s voice cracked a bit, and Dick was concerned by the insane flash in Tim’s eyes. “I lost my dad and my ex-girlfriend and other friends and my best friend! Everyone! Kon. He. He was more than that. And he.” Tim swallowed as his breath hitched. “He’s gone! And I wasn’t there! We promised to stick together, we shook on it, and I wasn’t there!”

Dick didn’t know what to say. Tim was right; life had been unfairly cruel to him of late. “Tim…”

“Leave me alone.”

“No.”

“I want you to leave. You’re not supposed to be here. No one’s supposed to-”

“I’m not going until you’re somewhere safe.”

“Dick…” There was a distinct note of pleading in Tim’s voice. His eyes were wide and brimming with tears.

Dick reacted instinctively and moved to gather Tim into his arms, then peeled off his mask. He wished he wasn’t wearing his costume. All he could do at the moment was take off his gauntlets, so he did. One arm went tight around Tim’s back, the other hand went into his hair. Tim clung to him, trembling as he sobbed.

“Tim.” A damp inhalation. “I know you don’t believe me. But it's not your fault. Nothing that's happened has been your fault. And it will get better. Shit like this has happened before. And it will again.” Tim clutched his fingers to Dick’s costume, gripping the slick material as best he could.

“The door is closed.”

“What?”

Tim took a deep breath before calming to try again. “The door. The one that was open for everyone to come back. It’s closed.” Another breath. “He can’t come back.”

And that just stuck it in and broke it off, didn't it. In recent years it did seem as if death had no meaning; people died then came back. Superman, Jason, Donna. Others. There was always hope, however screwed up it was. But now…

“It’ll be okay…” Meaningless words meant to placate. Dick had no fucking idea if it would all be okay.

“It won’t. I can’t.” Heaving sob into his shoulder. “I never got to.” Dick squeezed Tim tighter, trying to give what comfort he could, encourage Tim to continue. Tim spoke again, the words inaudible into his shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“They got scared. And they slept together. And I never…”

 _Oh_. There was more to this than Dick had realized. “Did you…” Tim is his little brother, he should know already. He should have been there for him...

“We had talked about it, wanted to. But then everything went to hell.” Another shuddering breath. “And it hurts…”

“I’m so sorry…” Dick hadn’t had quite this turn of events thrown at him. Tim wanted Kon, Kon was with someone else? ...Cassie… He continued to hold Tim close as the younger boy sobbed quietly against him. He also took the time to read the label on the pills Tim had brought with him. Strong pain killers that would kill Tim if he mixed them with the alcohol.

But he knew that.

Bruce had made sure his Robins knew chemistry, particularly what would mix to cause death and what wouldn’t. Easier way to tell a suicide from a homicide at a glance. If the combination of pills and alcohol around or within the body wasn’t deadly, something else had to have killed the person.

Unfortunately, teaching to distinguish between suicide and homicide meant teaching how to commit them both.

“Tim. What were you doing up here?” He knew, he could put two and two together and make four, student of the Bat and everything, but he needed to hear it from Tim.

There was a long pause before the soft words. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

“This.” Dick waited patiently for Tim to elaborate. “ _This_. No one gets out alive.”

Dick frowned, not sure how to take that. “You’re going to have to explain what you mean.”

“This." Tim tried to pluck at Dick's costume, but his fingers just slipped across it. "Heroing. Everyone keeps dying. And they won’t come back anymore. And even when they don’t die. If I don't die. Well, just look. I could. I could end up alone and frightening, like Bruce.”

“No. No, Tim.” Dick shook his head, which rubbed him against Tim. “You won’t be like Bruce. Bruce is his own species.”

“You didn’t see! In the future. I. Batman… And everyone is leaving! K-Kon, and God knows where Bart is. And you haven’t exactly been communicative lately…” At that, Dick almost felt like crying himself; he'd been neglectful lately. Instead, he settled for holding Tim tighter still and rubbing their hair together. “I just want it all to stop.”

“You can quit. Just be Tim Drake again.”

“I’ve tried that. You know it doesn’t work. I don't even know who he is anymore... I can’t stop… I won’t be able to until I’m buried along with my parents and friends.” Another pause as Tim took more shaky breaths, and Dick tried to think of something to say.

There wasn’t anything.

Tim spoke up again, his voice resigned. “I just want it to end.”

“You should have come to talk to me first.”

“I didn’t want you to talk me out of it.”

“Have I?”

“Not yet.” Goddamn it.

“Tim.” Dick gently pushed at Tim until he was able to look into Tim’s wet eyes. “You can’t do this.”

“Yes, I can.” There was only a slight tremble to his voice.

“It’s not what Kon would want. Or Steph. Or your parents. They’d want you to live.”

“For what.”

“For whatever you want.”

“But I don’t want to. I can’t do this any more. There's no way to go back and I can't go forward...” More tears welled up in Tim’s eyes.

Dick didn’t think it was good that they were starting to repeat things. “Tim…” He pulled Tim’s arms around back in front of him so he could hold them, give Tim a different connection. “Just give it some time. You’ll feel better soon.” He rubbed the thin skin of Tim’s wrists with his thumbs, and felt the faint scars.

Tim’s eyes widened. “No…” Ignoring Tim’s request, Dick brought one pale arm to his eyes. Lines. From a sharp blade. Dick’s eyes flicked to the small knife Tim had brought with him to the roof.

“What were you doing?”

“Cutting makes the pain go away sometimes.”

“It’s just a different kind of pain…” Dick pulled Tim close again, needing to feel the boy’s warmth. “How long?”

“Since it happened.”

“No one noticed.”

“Tim wore long sleeves. Robin wore his gauntlets.”

“And your wrists and ankles are taped when you train.” Goddamn it. One wrong nick and he could have lost him already.

Tim nodded against him, looking off into the distance. “I just want it gone…”

“I won’t let you.”

“You can’t watch me forever.”

“No. But I’m going to stay with you until you feel better.”

“It’ll be a while.”

“I’ve got time. Always time for you.” From now on. Always. Dick looked around, his eyes settling on the photo album. “Show me your pictures.”

“Why.”

“Just do it.”

Tim shifted around in Dick’s lap until he could reach the book, then sat back against him to turn the pages. Dick watched over Tim’s shoulder as he flipped through the pages and explained them, shots of the group, some of just Bart, a lot of just Kon. Some that Kon clearly didn’t know were being taken. “Love doesn’t go away.”

“What?”

“You’re going to love him for a long time. And it’ll hurt, and you’ll be angry with Cassie for a while. But you’re always going to remember how he made you feel. Try to make the best of it.”

Tim turned to press his head into Dick’s shoulder again, and shuddered again as he took a deep breath. “I guess. I can try. I just..." Defeated-sounding sigh. "I’ve lived through this before, right?”

“Not exactly. I don’t know why things like this keep happening to you. But I have to ask you to try. You have to talk to me. I need you, Tim. I can’t lose anyone else, either.”

Tim’s breath hitched again. “I didn’t think about it that way.”

“Most people don’t.”

They were silent for some time, Dick trying to figure out just what he should do other than hold Tim. He was more than happy to do just that for however long Tim needed it, but there should be more.

But they had time to work it out, time to help Tim rebuild his life.

They had all the time in the world.


End file.
